Cities Apart
by Winter-Eyes
Summary: Vimes needs sleep...and a drink. What he doesn't need is a meeting with Vetinari...and everything that happens after that. VV slash, slightly AU. Please R&R...don't make me beg!
1. Beginnings

A/N: Well here goes, my first Discworld attempt! In essence, this means I enjoy TP's books soo much I'm gonna pervert his character's as much as I possibly can! For all those that didn't read the summary…this means slash, and lots of it, so if that makes you squeamy…DON'T READ THE DAMN THING! Any homophobic flames will be treated with the distain they deserve.

This story is slightly AU, as Vimes and Sybil never got together (they still live together but as friends). Don't get me wrong, I think they're one of the cutest couples on the Disc…but I don't think that Vimes would ever cheat on Sybil, hence the AUness. 

Summary: Vimes should be at home asleep, not trying to explain things to the Patrician…V/V slash, AU.

Disclaimer: If you think I own them…go find out what 'Fan Fiction' means, then come back.

**Cities Apart**

Tick…Tock..Tick…….Tock….Tick..Tock…..Tock

Vimes sat slumped in the Patrician's waiting room, too tired even to notice the clock. He needed sleep. Well no, actually he needed something stronger but he wasn't allowed that. But one thing he didn't need, and his mind agreed unanimously on this point, was to see Vetinari. 

His mind kept flitting back to the events of the night; the chase through the warehouses, Carrot trying to talk the man down, the realisation that the man was charging coming instantaneously with movement as he pushed Carrot out of the way, Cheery's gasp as the bloodied dagger came up…

Only after it was over had Vimes realised the dagger was bloody because it had been buried up to the hilt in his shoulder. As if on cue, another stab of pain shot down his left side. Igor had done a great job with the stitches, but he still felt weak from the pain and blood loss. Igor had mentioned something about a transfusion, but any procedure that involved that much tubing attached to needles couldn't be a good thing.

And now he had to try and 'explain' things. And Vetinari would be calm and listen carefully and…curse him…might even be understanding.

_"Hell,"_ thought Vimes, _"I couldn't cope with that at the best of times, let alone right now."_

Vimes realised someone was trying to attract his attention. He looked up into the slightly anxious face of Drumknott.

"The Patrician will see you now."

Vimes struggled to his feet and made his way to the office, trying not to stagger. He stood in front of the desk, swaying slightly as he…more by habit than need…tried to read the paper work upside down.Vetinari's gaze remained on his papers.

"Sit down Your Lordship" he said dryly.

Vimes sat, letting Vetinari's words was over him. His mind was slowing to a crawl, fighting a rearguard action against the demands of his overtaxed body. Through the dark fog enveloping him, he dimly heard Vetinari trying to attract his attention.

"Vimes, are you listening to a word I say?"

"Sir?" he said, and fell forward.

Tbc……………if I get enough feedback….meaning R&R!


	2. Interuptions

A/N: Well I got some reviews to fuel my muses so they took over my body to write this next bit! More slash and 'strong' language in this chapter so avert u're eyes children. It won't be too graphic…at least at the moment…and I'll try to make the chapters a bit longer as I continue.

Thanks to all my reviewers:

_lavondyss21_: A lot will come of it I hope! I felt the same way as u did when I started writing this...but I got this idea and the plot bunnies wouldn't let me sleep till I started it.

_Merit Somnia_: Don't worry, there is a plot behind the madness…I just wanted to set the scene before I went into it. Here is the update u wanted!

_Jedera:_ No, you can spell it with an 's' (I think). I apologize in advance for any spelling mistakes; I have a spellchecker on my computer…but some words slip through the gaps.

_Cleo Calliope: _Cool name! If u like that sort of story u should like this *hint hint*. Not that I'm giving anything away…

Summary+Disclaimer: see chapter 1

~#~ Start Dream

~*~ End Dream

_Italics: _Vimes' thoughts

(A/N: the dream sequence is towards the end of Jingo…but ever so slightly different. Its not meant to be word perfect, only the gist of it)

**Chapter 2**

Deep in blackness, Vimes dreamed…

~#~

"Are you sure you don't have any shackles Vimes?"

"No!"

(_I remember this…_)

Rust's angry face loomed up out of the massed city leaders.

"The charge is high treason, the sentence death."  Vimes cried out in shock, "But what about a fair trial?"

(_This isn't right, it didn't happen like this…_)

"This is the trial _Mr. _Vimes."

Vetinari brushed his chained hands against Vimes' arm. "For the good of the city, justice must be served."

(_I can't do this, not Him…_)

The hurdle jerked slowly through the streets, streets lined with angry people. Vimes saw the raised arm an instant before the throw and pulled Vetinari down, shielding him. The rock impacted with his back-plate, denting and bruising.

"The city speaks Commander."

"But it doesn't know what it says!"

Vetinari smiled thinly. Vimes felt lost, that he was pulled deep into Vetinari's eyes as they gazed at one another. 

(_He never smiles like that…_)

Vimes slipped the noose over Vetinari's head, then turned and walked down the ladder. Involuntarily his body turned and his gaze met that of Vetinari. A wave of feeling rushed over him.

(_For him…?)_

Vimes turned to run back, but he felt as though he was waist deep in freezing mud. He saw Carrot's hand grasp the lever, his mouth open to cry out but no sound escaping.

The trapdoor opened…

~*~

The bubble broke, and Vimes slowly swam towards consciousness. He lay, his eyes closed against the bursts of pain, as his body discovered his now awake state. Vimes surveyed his surroundings by feel; not trusting himself to open his eyes until he remembered…well how he got here would be a start. 

_"Well I can feel sheets, that gets rid of one set of possibilities."_

Memory hit him like a sledgehammer, and he groaned softly. Vetinari was _not _going to be pleased. Still, he could deal with that later. Carrot or one of the others would have been called to take him home…or back to Sybil's.

"Welcome back Vimes."

Liquid ice poured down Vimes' spine. Vetinari's voice? That meant…

His eyes snapped open and he sat bolt upright in…bloody hell it must be Vetinari's _bed_! He tried to jump to his feet, got tangled in the bedclothes, righted himself…and met Vetinari's amused stare. Oh God he wasn't…no he wasn't. 

Vimes met Vetinari's eyes once more. There was something almost…predatory in the way he watched Vimes. At that moment, Vimes' legs decided to protest strongly about his rapid movements. As his knees buckled, Vimes grabbed the bedpost to stop himself falling. Instantly, Vetinari was at his elbow, offering support. Vimes blinked in astonishment. Was that concern in Vetinari's eyes?

Vimes regained his balance, but Vetinari maintained his hold on Vimes' arm. They stood facing each other, their faces inches apart. Vimes was barely aware of Vetinari leaning forward until their lips met. Vimes leaned into the kiss, all other thoughts eclipsed by the familiar wave of feeling rushing through him. Vetinari's hands slid round his shoulders, then…

Vimes' thoughts suddenly returned in a disjointed rush. Vetinari's hands…Vetinari, he was kissing, _being_ kissed by… Vimes pulled away, horrified, then rushed out of the room without a backward glance. The door shook as he thumped his fist against the wall.

Vetinari remained standing in the middle of the room, no emotion registering on his pale face. When the sound of Vimes' retreat had faded, he moved to his desk and sat down, pulling some papers towards him. As he began to write, the sound of feet striding away from the palace were heard through the open window. Only then did his shoulders slump, ever so slightly.

Tbc……………come on people, you know what I want!!!


	3. Reflections

A/N: well I'm back. Sorry it's been so long since I updated but I've been so busy with my AS exams this story had to take a back seat for a while. Thank you again to all my reviewers, it really makes my day to know people like this:

_Dominofalling_: Yes he does doesn't he (lol), I never thought of it like that. Glad you like the story, I'll warn u if it gets any slashier.

_Merit Somnia_: Again with the hinting!! J Glad u like it, hopefully the chapters will get longer as I go.

_Annie Wilkes1_: And the award for sweetest review goes to… thanks so much, take u're more with pleasure.

_You know who I am lula_: yes I do and I know where u live too ;) Glad u like my writing and David has now been saved!!

_Lavondyss21_: don't worry…I couldn't do that to you, me…or the boys. Here is what You wanted, enjoy!

Warning: V/V slash…that's male/male people!!

Disclaimer: Yes, I do own this…no Terry Pratchett, don't take my house!!

begin flashback

# end flashback

(_Italics_) Vetinari's thoughts

**Chapter 3**

Vetinari shuffled the papers around on his desk. For the first time in his life he felt unable to concentrate on his work. Normally he delighted in the various intrigues and plots that seemed to come with the city as much as the smell, but now…

His thoughts seemed to be constantly drawn back to the events of earlier. How could he have got things so wrong? He had practically made a living from reading the silences behind what people said and did…so why had Vimes run?

Normally he was careful, every step he took was considered and any repercussions duly analysed, but when Vimes was involved…

He felt like molten fire had been poured in his normally icy veins. Sometimes it took every ounce of his formidable self-control to stop himself staring at Vimes whenever he came into the office.

He remembered when he had thought he first met Vimes, that young, newly appointed captain, applying for command of the Day Watch. Vetinari smiled sadly at the memory. Vimes had as yet not schooled his face to present the bland impassiveness he did now, Vetinari had been able to read every thought running through the man's mind…

"So Captain…Vimes was it?"

"Yes Sir."

_(He already looks nervous…the clock always works)_

"Now Vimes, why do you feel you should be given this command over someone with more experience…more familiarity with command?"

_(More diplomacy for Gods' sakes)_

"But the older officers Sir…they're the problem Sir!"

"Explain Captain."

_(Just leave it there Captain…and maybe there is still hope for you)_

"They don't respect the law Sir. Everyone knows the Assassins are just murderers and the Thieves Guild is just a pack of thieves…but none of them do anything about it Sir!"

_(It's worse than I thought. I will have to remove him, and quickly before he…destabilises things)_

"Captain, these are some of the city's premier institutions…and ones that the Captain of the Day Watch would be expected to liaise closely with. Maybe you should consider whether this post is really what you _(or I)_ want."

_(Command of the Night Watch…that will be perfect)_

"You are dismissed Captain."

"Sir"

#

Yet another time he had misjudged Vimes. Vetinari even remembered his exact words to Wonse:

"The Night Watch is a bunch of fools commanded by a drunkard…it's taken me years to achieve it."

Vetinari smiled wryly. Wonse hadn't been the only misguided one in that situation. Vetinari travelled further into reflection…trying to analyse (as was his way) when he had begun to feel for Vimes…and how he could have been so mistaken.

The realisation that Vimes meant more to him than he was prepared to admit had been gradual at first…but then recently had flared when Vetinari had realised who Vimes was…and when their real first meeting had been…

Vetinari crouched on the rooftop, his dark grey clothes wrapped tight around him as he melted into the shadows. The night was cold but he did not stir, his attention riveted on the scene playing out in front of him. The man with the scars and eye patch controlling the crowd…making it dance to his tune. It was a feat few could have managed and fewer still could have maintained.

Vetinari felt a stirring of emotion as he gazed at the man below him, at his face silhouetted in the lamplight, but quickly banished it as he focused on the task at hand. Emotions only confused things, plus if his Aunt discovered how he felt she would have a hold over him…and that Vetinari would not allow. Still, in the privacy of his thoughts maybe…

There was the movement he had been watching for. His arm came up and he fired, by instinct rather than aim. As his quarry fell to the street below, Vetinari slipped away over the rooftops, reflecting he would probably never see the man again.

#

A shuddering sigh escaped from Vetinari as he remembered. He has seen Keel die…but then had seen him again, so many years after. It was then he realised what he truly felt for Vimes.

But now that was gone too…and this time there would be no miraculous second chance.

Vetinari stood up decisively. He needed someone to listen, but not judge, and he knew one person who could definitely do that.

Scant minutes (and some careful hopping) later, Vetinari was out side the office of Leonard of Quirm. Leonard was, as always, pleased to see him and, after his latest invention had been disarmed, sat down to listen.

After Vetinari had finished pouring out his story, they sat in silence, till Leonard spoke.

"Yes I could tell the way you felt about him. You tend to talk…more freely about him here than I imagine you would to the outside world. I have something for you that you might like."

As Leonard began to rummage in a desk drawer, Vetinari sat stunned by Leonard's down to earth response. Then Leonard turned back to Vetinari, a sheaf of papers held in his hands. He handed them to Vetinari, who began to flick through them and gasped in astonishment.

On each page there was a sketch of Vimes. Vimes angry, Vimes impassive, Vimes smiling…all sketched in such detail that they seemed to leap of the page at him. Even more unusual for Leonard was that there was only the one drawing per page. Vetinari stared at Leonard incredulously, managing to utter just a single word.

"How…?"

 "Quite simple really," said Leonard vaguely, "I looked through the eyes of the portraits. I've done studies of several others if you're interested…"

"No," said Vetinari thickly, as he stood up to leave, "these are…fine"

As he strode out into the corridor, Leonard shouted after him, "Remember, you tend to misjudge Vimes. He may surprise you."

Back in his office, Vetinari poured over the drawings. Leonard had faithfully captured all that he loved about Vimes, and it pained him to think that this would probably be the closest he would get to holding Vimes in his arms. Suddenly, Vetinari's head snapped up, and the beginnings of a smile flitted across his face.

Vimes had thumped the wall on his way out!

…So there was still a chance.

put it this way, if Vetinari had been a lemming…the whole cliff thing wouldn't have even registered as a problem.

Tbc…………………..please…don't make me beg (it's NOT pretty!)


	4. Denials

A/N: Ohmygod!! I reached double figures!!!! YAAAAAY (can u tell I'm happy?). Also, I am sooooooo sorry it took me so long to update this…but I was trapped without a computer for most of the summer! Just a slight reminder as Sybil is in this chappie…this story is AU as Sybil and Vimes were only ever good friends, but still live together (as Vimes would never cheat on Sybil).

Thanks so much to all my wonderful reviewers:

_Annie Wilkes1_: glad u liked my humble efforts :D, here's another…so u can stay there.

_Teakettle and __Scone_: Wow…thank you so much. I agree about the V/V pairing (the reason I wrote this). I'm so glad u like Vetinari…I had the same fears u did so I'm glad u thought him in character. Hope u like this Vimes chappie!

_Girly_: Glad u think my writing's good…and everyone is entitled to their own opinion.

_The burberry 'whoops-a-daisy fire massacre_: Ha-ha…I'm converting u! No, don't hit me with u're many ringed fingers… now where'd I put that strawberry.

_Neverdidlikelotr_: Sybil is in this chappie more…but read the reminder first. Glad u think its funny…but I hope that's funny ha-ha not funny weird!

_Youneverknow_: I've read small gods…oddly when I first read HP Snape reminded me of Vorbis! I'll think about a small gods fic…when I'm done with this.

_Anna-Nicole_: I'm really flattered u like my writing…even if not the content. To be honest, however I write Vetinari in this he will be slightly OOC, but I'm doing my best.

_Belkassam_: so glad u like it…as for Sybil she is in this chappie, and maybe she doesn't need to find out!

_MaskedScissorDoll: _thank you!

_Sunny-historian_: I feel the same about V/V, but I hope I can keep the goodness up! (go slash!) my AS's went well thanks, and look, I have continued!

_Reija Linn_: yes, the kiss was sudden but I needed it to happen so the rest of the story could. Glad u like description…that's what I'm good at!

_Melecove_: no, please don't, I'll continue! I warn you, there will be more cliff-hangers before I finish this mwahahahahah!!!!(cough)sorry.

_Kola_: no, please go on…you can say more…it will make me continue… ;)

This chapter is dedicated to all those to be changed in the Burberry 'oh dear god I'm a toad' disaster.

Disclaimer: if these characters were mine, do you think I'd be using them to write fan fiction?

Warning: There is slash in this story. If male/male freaks u out…don't read it!

_Blah _Vimes' thoughts

**Chapter 4**

Vimes stomped through the street of Ankh-Morpork, paying little attention to his surroundings. Normally this would make such a person an immediate target to the various less savoury denizens of the fetid city, but there was something in Vimes' stance, and the look in his eyes, that made even the licensed thieves shrink away to find safer targets.

_Catshead___

_Cobbles_

_Roughstone___

_Paving_

Vimes trusted his feet to take him back to the watch house (_home_), distractedly glad he had persuaded Sybil to stop gifting him with shoes. If she had, Vimes would never have reached his destination, his head so full of roiling thoughts no room was left for mundane things like direction.

_'He ki…Vetinari ki…and I was…was I?'_

With that 'thought' Vimes knew he was reaching what was really troubling him. Not so much that Vetinari had kissed him, though that would normally have been enough, but whether he had kissed back. Vimes scowled at the familiar site of the watch house looming before him. All he had to do was get past the all the highly skilled, observant watchmen that he himself had trained to notice anything out of the ordinary and reach his office. Then he could bury himself in paperwork (a literal comment with the state of his desk).

* * *

Colon sighed, looked around the almost empty room, and stretched. The chair he was sitting in and he froze, remembering a few weeks ago when…well in his defence it had been a very old chair, one that shouldn't been left where an unsuspecting person could actually sit on it. He saw Nobby directing a side-long smirk at him, and knew he wasn't the only one who remembered. To forestall the comment he knew was coming he turned towards Carrot.

"I think its clean now sir."

Carrot glanced up from his furious polishing.

"This armour is a symbol of…"

Colon sat back and let his attention drift. The slam of the door leading to the street brought him back just in time to catch;

"…so the least we can do is keep it clean."

Vimes strode through the door, his face set in a scowl so deep Colon wondered who the unlucky corpse…er person was. He held his breath until he heard the next slam, this time of the office door. Carrot got up from his desk. Nobby looked at him quizzically.

"Where are you going?"

"There's obviously something wrong. I'm sure any help we can give would be appreciated."

Colon and Nobby shared a meaningful look. Both also got up, Colon moving towards Carrot.

"May I speak freely sir?" he whispered.

"Of course"

"I know you outrank me but I do have experience with these situations and…"

"Go on"

"In this situation, the senior officer has a problem, and when the senior officer has a problem the rank…"

"Go on patrol." Nobby finished, putting on his helmet and heading for the door. Colon followed, looking meaningfully at Carrot who, after a last reluctant glance in the direction of the stairs, buckled on his gleaming breastplate and went after them.

* * *

Vimes let out a breath he hadn't realised he had been holding when he heard the sounds of their exit. He had known he could trust the self-preservation instincts of Colon and Nobby but Carrot was another matter. That boy was going to get himself into trouble one day…hell he already had. Vimes still shuddered when he remembered how close Carrot had come to arresting Vetin…the Patrician. Come to think of it, it was Colon who had saved the day then too. A half smile flitted across Vimes' lips.

Then faded as Vimes remembered why he needed to be alone. He turned what had happened over in his mind. Surely he could never have feelings for Vetinari…the man infuriated him, confused him, fascinated him…

Vimes froze at that last thought. But he knew it was true. Vetinari had always intrigued him, even if sometimes he thought he should save the nobles a favour and kill the man. Had those feelings changed along the line?

Vimes took out his notebook and a pencil.

'Whene dide mie feilings chaynge?' He wrote, before tearing of the page and flinging it towards the bin. He searched his memories, hoping for some instance that would help.

* * *

Vimes grunted, halfway up the wall. He could feel the cramp building in his shoulders from the effort of holding himself upright. He stole another glance at Vetinari as he sat reading, the picture of calm and composure.

Gods it was ridiculous. Here he was, halfway up a wall in a dank cell they might never get out of, and Vetinari was reading a book on…Vimes squinted…_lace making_.

Wiping the sweat from his eyes Vimes started again to chip away at the mortar. He could feel Vetinari's eyes on him, and wondered why that didn't bother him. Vimes wondered in exasperation when Vetinari would stop being smug and tell him what the other way out of the cell was. Whatever Vetinari thought of him, Vimes wasn't stupid enough to believe Vetinari would build a cell he couldn't get out of, even without secret passages.

He could just _ask_ Vetinari, however embarrassing that would be, but he knew Vetinari would be happier revealing it in his own good time. A part of him wondered why he cared about Vetinari's happiness, but another more cynical part wrote it off as due to the fact Vetinari _did_ pay his wages.

Anyway…Vimes raised his dagger again.

* * *

Vimes leant back, rubbing his eyes. This pointless recollection got him no closer to getting his thoughts in order. There was only one person he trusted enough to open his heart to.

It was time to go home.

tbc...go on, you know you _want _to review...surrender to your impulses!!!


	5. Complications

A/N: Sorry, sorry, sorry for such a long wait…I was really busy, and also lazy and that's never a good combo! Well I'm back again…despite a singular lack of reviews…and slightly sooner than last time. Thank you to all those who did review…I want to do this story anyway, but its nice to know people are still reading it! Now I know I said this last time but Sybil will definitely be in this chappie…so read WHY this is AU! Now to my three wonderful reviewers:

_Not your average_: yes I'm back…and I've come to pervert ure world! Sorry about the length…but I needed to cut it off there so I could end this chapter in the right place without it being too short…and I know how u hate that! Colon's chair creaked alarmingly…not sure why that bit was cut off, soz. Still haven't seen any more of Tam and Rayne though!

_Keyanna_: glad u like the story…and that the AUness is doing its job. And this relationship with Vetinari…it's going for a long way yet!

_Estelendur_: yay…you like this! Anyone who would threaten me to make me write is gd in my book. U can put the file away now though... (edges slowly away)

Warning : Yes there is slash. if u don't like the idea of two men hopping on the good foot to do the bad thing...GO AWAY

Disclaimer: Did Vimes and Vetinari kiss in Night Watch? No? then maybe, just maybe i don't own this!

* * *

**Chapter 5**

Vimes walked hesitantly up the drive of the mansion he shared with Sybil. Even after Gods knew how long he still felt uncomfortable going up to the front door. He supposed there would always be a part of him that should be going in through the servant's door…and to be honest he hoped there always would. The day he felt comfortable as Duke of Ankh would be the day he wasn't a copper any more…and then he wouldn't be Vimes either.

He smiled wryly…today going to the front door was the least of his worries. Back at the watch house this had seemed such a good idea, a calm, impartial and above all discrete ear to listen to his problem, but now… how could he talk to Sybil about this. What could she possibly say, how would she react…more importantly how did he want her to react?

* * *

By this time Vimes had reached the door. He stood with his hand raised, then hesitated. Just as he was seriously debating staying the night at the watch house, the door opened to reveal the sober face of Wilikins. Vimes coughed, then lowered his hand, trying to project the air that standing on the front step with your hand raised was a practical alternative to actually knocking.

"Lady Sybil is waiting for you in the Ever So Slightly Blue Drawing Room sir; she suggested you may want to speak with her."

"How did she…" Vimes spluttered

"Well sir, you were pacing outside the gate for some time, so her Ladyship ventured to surmise something might be on your mind."

Vimes mutely followed Wilikins into the house, unconsciously bracing himself for what was coming next. The butler showed him to the room where Sybil sat, the tactfully left. Vimes started to pace the room, avoiding the chair where he knew Sybil would be sitting. The next minute he felt strong arms pushing him into a musty sofa, followed by the creak as Sybil sat next to him. He still kept his eyes cast down, so she put out her hand and raised his chin until there eyes met.

"Tell me"

"I…" Vimes stammered inarticulately, then subsided.

"Sam, we've been friends for too long. I know something big is troubling you and I won't let you try and deal with it alone. Tell me what it is…or do I have to lock you in the dragon pens again." Sybil added, with a smile.

Vimes half grinned at the memory…one of the many stories he was glad the men didn't know…then the smile died as he tried to continue.

"Vetinari…"

"Oh so you finally realised…to be honest I didn't think Havelock had it in him, he's been hiding it for so long I was convinced he would never…" Sybil tailed off as Vimes eyebrows threatened to disappear into his hairline.

"You mean you didn't…but the way you two act together, anybody could tell." At Vimes' look of horror Sybil reviewed what she had said then backtracked hurriedly.

"No one _else_ hasnoticed. You know the other city dignitaries, they are about as observant as a hedgehog under a cart wheel. But I thought you would have known…not about him of course, he has more practice at hiding feelings…but about yourself"

"But I don't know how I feel, that's the problem!" Vimes blurted out. Sybil looked at him kindly. She took his hand in hers affectionately.

"Of course you do. When he was poisoned, when you had to arrest him, when Wonse attacked him…each time you leap to his defence without a second thought. Or at least not much of one."

"But it's my job to protect him."

"That's true, but not so much. He has the palace guard, his body guard…the man was trained at the assassin's guild for Gods' sakes." She paused, looking deep into his eyes.

"Don't be afraid to face the truth…just be afraid of letting it slip away."

With that she squeezed his hand one last time and left. Vimes sat as the light coming through the curtains gradually faded to the gloom of night. He wrestled with his thoughts, trying to resolve the conflict within them, all the while Sybil's last words echoing in his mind. At last, when the light had completely faded, Vimes stood, a smile playing on his lips. He began to hum tunelessly as he walked to the front door and out into the night, regardless of the rain that was now pelting down. Sybil closed her bedroom door and went to her window, smiling knowingly as she watched the gate creak open then closed again.

* * *

In the dark, wet alley, the men waited. They were new to Ankh-Morpork, but men like them automatically gravitated towards the Shades. They watched the man in the battered breastplate approaching. He didn't look like their preferred helpless victim, but hunger made them desperate…and besides there was only one of him. Before he was completely past the alleyway, they leapt out in front of him.

* * *

Vimes stood warily facing the three thugs who had so suddenly appeared. He cursed his relative lack of attention, the Shades was not the place for even the smallest lowering of guard. Still, these men had the look of outsiders…which meant they were unprepared…

The first man, moving in, had his overconfidence met with the Vimes Elbow…swiftly followed by the Vimes Kneecap. The second, trying to take advantage of this distraction, found that the best (and for him worst) thing about the Vimes Elbow was that there were, in fact, two of them. Vimes stood facing the third, his harsh breath mingling with the thunder of the rain in his ears. Why didn't the man move? He didn't even try to run, just stood there, gazing at Vimes. No, not at him, past him…

Vimes started to turn…but too late. He felt a searing bolt of pain as the unseen fourth man drove the dagger into his side. Vimes crumpled, his hand instinctively reaching to clutch the gaping wound as the man roughly tore the knife away. He dimly heard their retreating footsteps mixed with the slither as the two men decided to take themselves and their comrades elsewhere. Vimes painfully dragged his body to the side of the alley and slumped against the wall, the hot agony washing through him in waves.

* * *

Vimes lay there, listening to the rain drumming on his breastplate. He began to shiver uncontrollably, despite the warm wetness that pulsed between his clenched fingers and spilled down his side.

* * *

Tbc…I know it's a cliff-hanger, and an evil one at that! But rest assured I will update it as soon as possible (reviews will always help!) 


	6. Realisations

A/N: You like me…you really like me (does happy dance)!!! I'm really sorry for the long wait…but I was kinda stranded without a computer for the whole of Christmas, but I'm back to school now (oh yay…) so can reward all my brill reviewers! Now, I'm gonna remind u bout the AUness cause there is a plot point in this that relies on it. Cast ure mind back 2 the wonder that was 'Night Watch' and sharpen ure logic circuits people…if Sybil and Vimes were never together, she would've never got pregnant and a certain doctor would still be in the place he was in, in previously mentioned book! See logic is fun!!(fails to convince self, returns to usual insane state). Anyway…on to my reviewers…your constant patience is my inspiration:

_Deathwisher:_ sorry sorry…but u did review so my cliffy worked! I hope this is a bit sooner, but I do have an excuse for my irregular updates…I do.

_Not your average_: yes, yes I did…and why – because I can! Anyway for shame…u know I could never kill him (tried to placate the horde of rabid fangirls with sharp things)…honest!

_Keyanna:_ yeah…only just noticed that myself. Must just not be his week! If there's not enough character development in this story…I am thinking of a sequel so…

_Mally: _ahh gratuitous hinting! Well I never take any notice of that…apart from just this once.

_Estelendur:_ sorry, I'll keep trying to make them longer…but even without torture here is another chappie, mainly cause I'm sure u can find more sharp things!?!

_Sunny-historian:_ yay ure back! Yes I know…Vimes could have taken them on with both hands tied behind his back…but for the sake of the story I had to. Don't worry, I also couldn't leave him in that state!

_Elliot:_ ure review really made me grin…its gd 2 know peeps are as slashy minded as me! Hope this chappie lives up 2 ure expectations!

_DreadNot:_ here's ure update…so please stop shouting ;). Glad I've been doing it right…characterisation was my biggest worry.

_Mortified Penguin_: glad u like it…1. I imagine Vimes in old fashioned armour with a breast and back plate held together by leather straps. There would only be a small gap at the side but there would be enough to get a blade into. 2. It was Vetinari who made Vimes a Duke eventually (more to annoy him than anything else), so it doesn't matter if he's married to Sybil or not. Hope that clears up ure confusion.

Warning: If you don't like gay men…be afraid, be VERY afraid! That and I'm very mean to both of them this chappie…

Disclaimer: If loving characters means you own them…I own the Discworld!!!!(or possibly not)

**

* * *

Chapter 6**

* * *

Vimes had no idea how long he had been lying there, listening to each tortured breath scrape past his lips. The chilling rain ran over his upturned face, and he blinked it out of his eyes as he fought to stay conscious. The lances of agony from his side every time he breathed were taking on a muted edge as he slipped further away from reality.

Vimes blinked and gathered himself, determinedly pushing back the darkness. Lying here was not an option. He knew no help was coming…and even so, no one would want any help the Shades could provide. Unless…

Vimes somehow struggled to his feet, clutching at the wall for support. He stood there, shaking as he tried to deal with the fresh activity from his side that moving produced. He still had his hand gripped to the gash, even though it did little to stop the blood that still oozed over and around his rigid fingers.

He began to walk. Pushing his mind past the pain, Vimes focused his whole being on what he could feel though the worn soles of his shoes. He kept walking. Vimes' vision had narrowed to the ground in front of his feet. He kept walking. Each step became a blind stumble forwards. He kept walking.

Then, at last, he stopped. Vimes turned and looked up, knowing his life depended on what he would find. Above him, the weathered sign creaked in the wind.

_Dr. M Lawn_

Vimes knocked on the door. From inside he heard the faint sound of footsteps.

"Hello, who…"

Lawn trailed off as he saw the blood-stained, bedraggled form swaying in his doorway.

"Remember me?" said Vimes, as Lawn took his arm and helped him inside.

"Keel…?"

"Not anymore"

* * *

Vetinari picked up the next letter and started to read. After the first sentence he knew who it was. Only Rust could put so much aristocratic indignation into that small a space. As he reached for the next, there came a tap at the door, followed a few seconds later by Drumknott's head.

"The evening reports from the…informants are here sir."

"Put them in the usual tray" Vetinari murmured, without looking up.

Drumknott turned and placed the various reports in the tray. He paused a moment as if considering something, then picked the top one of the pile and turned back to Vetinari.

"Sir, I believe you will wish to give this one your immediate attention."

Drumknott placed the paper in Vetinari's outstretched hand, and then hurriedly left the room. Vetinari had always kept a tight rein on his emotions but this was an entirely different matter. Drumknott really didn't want to be around if Vetinari decided to let go all at once.

Vetinari waited until Drumknott left the room then lowered his eyes to the report he had been given. The paper crumpled as the hand holding it clenched tight, then it dropped unheeded to the floor. Vetinari moved swiftly to a cupboard at the rear of the room and pulled out a battered old trunk. After tapping on the lid a seemingly random pattern, he opened it and pulled out a robe of mottled dark green and grey. Changing into it from his Patrician's black he suddenly looked less visible, even in the light of his office, as if his outline had been smudged around the edges. Smearing some paint of the same colours on his face completed the process. Then he opened the window and slipped out into the night.

Back in the waiting room, Drumknott sat at his desk and sighed. He hoped, for the city's sake, that Vimes was still alive.

* * *

Vimes opened his eyes and squinted in the candle-light. He had focused all his remaining strength on reaching Lawn's house, and when he had he had finally surrendered to inevitable collapse and trusted to Lawn's skill. He knew he lay on a bed, but beyond that only the ceiling was in his line of vision. Vimes tried to raise his head to see the room, but even that small movement made his head swim. He lay back and concentrated on breathing, listening to the muffled snatches of conversation coming from the next room.

_"…bad way. Lost too much…had to cauterize…not…time left…"_

_"…watch house…go…Igor…"_

The door then creaked open and Vimes closed his eyes against the flare of light. He kept them closed as the light disappeared and listened to the quiet breathing of the person who was now in the room with him. Soft steps approached the bed, and then he heard a whisper, soft and almost pleading.

"Vimes…"

Vimes turned his head slightly and opened his eyes to look up into a face he knew almost as well as him own. Vetinari looked almost as calm as usual, but Vimes' mouth twitched at the sight of a streak of green still smudged on Vetinari's usually immaculate cheek. Vimes could feel the pull of oblivion once again but he fought it off long enough to say what he knew he had to. He held Vetinari's gaze.

"I shouldn't have run…"

Vetinari stared at Vimes until his eyes slide closed. Then he sat on the chair beside the bed and watched the rise and fall of Vimes' chest with each shallow breath. Vetinari felt a dampness on his cheek, and he raised his hand and brushed off the single tear that had fallen. He stared in wonder at the small drop shining on his finger then bent forward and took Vimes' icy hand in his, willing strength to the prone figure. As Lawn rushed through the damp night on his urgent mission, candle-light played over the two still forms hoping for the morning.

* * *

Tbc……whew! Yes, I know it's another cliff-hanger…but hopefully not as evil as last time. But as this story is slowly drawing to a close…would anyone be interested in a sequel? I have some ideas…so review and tell me what u think! Till next time…… 


	7. Blood and Tears

A/N: What…an update after a reasonable interval…is she mad!! The answer to that is, of course, yes…but I have also just finished January A2 modules and need a break into fantasy. That and I got an idea that completely changes my planned direction for both this story and the sequel and should make both longer. Couldn't leave the idea on the shelf anymore…so here I am. Seriously…for this chapter I beg for understanding. I have no idea how blood-matching would work in a non-modern society so I just chose a way that sounded plausible to me and went with it. It probably has things badly wrong with it but I, like opera, ask you to suspend your disbelief. There is another thing u have to be understanding about but I'll mention it at the end otherwise it gives away too much. Anyway…after that long ramble…on to my fab reviewers:

_Deathwisher:_ I'm reading it because it makes me feel happy! But I am also writing in the hope of more reviews like that : ).

_Not Your Average:_ So…couldn't even be bothered to leave a signed review! Still, I suppose ure speechless wonder makes up 4 it. The turtle is fine, the ankles are dry and the chapter (complete with much and varied angst) awaits.

_Elliot:_ Well, I obviously hit the right note to produce that reaction! Glad u like the story so far…hope the plot twist doesn't throw u off. Sorry, I would love to read ure stuff…but unfortunately my German is vvvv bad! Have u written anything in English?

_Joymouse-8675309:_ Always gd to get a nu reviewer! Glad u like it so far…thanks for making it a fav story : ). I won't kill u if u don't review…cause then u couldn't do it anymore!

_Sunny-historian:_ That's fine…it was about time I reviewed ure work too. If u think I'm evil now, wait until u reach the end of this. This chappie seems a long one 2, so I hope u like it!

_Nora Charles:_ Thanks! I try to keep with canon if I can as I think it helps keep characters in character…I hope.

_Mooing platypus:_ I love you : )! This review was the best thing to find on my email early in the morning…I just hope I can live up to ure expectations! And look, I'm (ouch) writing so you can (ow) stop poking…please.

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**Warning**: Massive plot twist ahead so keep arms and legs within the chapter at all times and hang on to the safety bar provided…oh yeah and there are gay men in it too. 

**Disclaimer**: For me to own them I would have to age several decades and have a sex change. That is obviously not going to happen!

This chapter is dedicated to Not Your Average…as without her this story would have been very different!

* * *

**Chapter 7**

* * *

Vetinari sat gazing at Vimes' still form. He allowed his eyes to feast on the features in a way he never could in past encounters. The pale countenance looked tired and drawn, and Vetinari longed to see some sign of life. He willed the mouth to flicker into the sardonic smile he knew so well, or the eyes to open and lock with his. Vetinari fought against the treacherous tides of emotion that threatened below his almost impassive surface. Control was all he had. If he lost it, even for a moment, Vetinari feared he would be overwhelmed. 

"My fault…" he breathed.

The unfamiliar burn of withheld tears grew stronger as Vetinari dwelt on the truth of that thought. If he had not given in to that irresistible urge, if he had gone on pretending to Vimes and to himself that there was nothing more than professional courtesy between them, then Vimes would not now be lying so still and silent before him. Guilt was not a feeling Vetinari often experienced, or allowed himself to brood over, but this time he found it impossible to escape.

Vetinari could still remember the wonder he had felt tracing Vimes' lips with his, and then that glorious moment when the kiss had been returned with equal fervour, before reality had intervened and paradise was abruptly wrenched away. He had tried to convince himself that a chance was still there, but not until Vimes had spoken from the bed had he known how little he had believed that.

_"I shouldn't have run…"_

That fragment of sentence was what made the guilt and torment bearable, and the only hope he had left to cling to.

* * *

When Vetinari had read the report Drumknott handed him, the dagger had been driven into his side as well. The dressing routine he had perfected at the guild suddenly seemed slow and unwieldy, and the progress over the damp rooftops tortuously protracted. Then, when he had finally reached the alley described, it was empty. 

Almost empty, for when Vetinari dropped soundlessly to the ground he saw a rapidly congealing pool of fresh blood that looked almost black in the moonlight. The rest of the journey had taken on a nightmarish quality as he had followed the streaks of red through various twists and turns, streaks that seemed to get heavier the further he progressed. Vetinari had dreaded coming across a slumped form at the end of the trail, but wished for it too, if just to find what he so desperately sought.

* * *

Vetinari unwillingly returned his mind to the present. He chafed Vimes' hand with his, trying to force some warmth into the frozen fingers. Vetinari reflected he would gladly do anything to ensure Vimes lived. The depth of feeling frightened him, never before had he allowed anything to mean as much to him as this watchmen. 

"For your sake I will bear this weakness" Vetinari whispered, hoping Vimes would somehow hear the words it cost him so much to say.

The door banging brought him out of his reverie. Vetinari carefully released Vimes' hand and slipped out into the other room in time to see Igor opening the door for a bedraggled Dr. Lawn.

"Thorry sir, but its traditional."

"Even so…how did you get ahead of me to open the door? You were following me all the way down the street!"

Lawn looked alternately horrified and fascinated, a common reaction when first encountering an Igor. He was also paying special attention to his 's' sounds, another surprisingly common reaction.

* * *

Igor stepped past Vetinari and into the room where Vimes lay. The door swung shut and the two remaining men stood in an awkward silence, which Vetinari broke. 

"You will of course be properly…provided for."

"If he lives of course" said Lawn acerbically.

Vetinari simply subsided back into the chilled silence. Igor shuffled back into the room and over to his trunk, which he began to root through as he talked.

"The doctor's diagnothis was correct. Lucky for him I've jutht worked out the tranthfuthion system"

He began pulling out large ice-covered bottles of what Vetinari realised was blood. He placed them in a row next to the bag, then pulled out needles, tubing and several glass bowls. He took one bowl and a needle back into the other room and brought the bowl back out about a quarter filled with Vimes' blood.

"Don't you think he's lost enough of that already?" Lawn exploded. "If you were brought here to save him you're going about it in a very bad way!"

"It'th all necessary I athure you. I'm going to replace thum of the blood he's lotht with blood I've taken from some of the other watchmen."

"Were they conscious?" Vetinari inquired, dreading the answer.

"Of corth not thur. I am not completely without…"

"Morals" Lawn interjected quickly. He doubted he could handle Igor saying scruples.

"Yeth. But I have to test hith blood first. For thome reason, only some thampleth of blood will mix. If you get it wrong, the blood clots."

Under Lawn's fascinated gaze, Igor began to mix samples of Vimes' blood with that from the bottles in the glass bowls. Time after time, the mixed samples darkened and congealed, and the group of discarded bottles grew larger. The scars on Igor's head began to arrange into an approximation of a frown. Finally, there was only a single bottle left. As Igor mixed the samples, Vetinari's breath caught in his throat. He willed the blood to remain liquid, but all too soon a dark, sticky mass began to form. Igor set down the bowl and looked towards Vetinari and Lawn.

"Now what?" said Lawn with a sigh. His professional curiosity had been peaked, but now it seemed that there would be no miraculous breakthrough. Igor slowly shuffled back to the trunk and opened a compartment in the side, marked with a red cross.

"There ith one more bottle left"

He turned from the bag and mixed the last two samples. The silence in the room stretched tight with the anticipation. The blood stayed fluid. Igor hesitated, staring down at the bowl.

"What is the delay?" asked Vetinari icily, thinking of the still form in the next room clinging to life.

Igor turned, still holding the bowl, and fixed Vetinari with a penetrating stare.

"It's Thargeant Angua's blood thur."

There was silence. Lawn started a question, hoping that what he knew was wrong.

"So a werewolf's blood…"

"Hath the same effect ath the bite, yes."

"But without the blood?" Vetinari interjected. "Can he survive without this…transfusion?"

Igor's silence answered this question. Vetinari glanced involuntarily towards the door behind him. The thought of Vimes' death was a yawning chasm within him, one that he would not allow to open.

"Then do it"

"I need his conthent."

"I give the consent."

_And will bear the consequences_ he thought wearily. Vetinari could feel Igor's accusatory stare on him as he began to prepare the equipment. He wondered at Igor's acceptance of the order, but why he was doing it didn't matter. Neither did the consequences. Once Vimes was safe…then he would allow himself to think of those.

* * *

Igor moved into the candlelit room, Lawn and Vetinari following close behind. The bottle had now been connected to the rubber tubing. Igor took a leather strap and bound it tightly around Vimes' upper arm, waiting for the bulge of a vein to appear. When it did, he took a hollow needle in competent fingers and slipped it into Vimes' arm. A trickle of blood began to flow out of the end of the needle and Igor quickly connected the tube and released the tourniquet. He paused and turned, fixing his eyes on Vetinari. Then he inverted the bottle. 

The silence in the room was deafening, but was suddenly shattered by Vimes' scream. He was still unconscious but his back arched off the bed, and he began to writhe as if in the grip of intolerable pain. Vetinari lunged forwards and gripped Vimes' bucking shoulders, striving to hold him down. He was dimly aware of Lawn undertaking a similar task at Vimes' feet. The skin under his grasp burned with heat, and Vetinari could see the agony written across Vimes' face and the sweat beading his brow. Vimes fought and moaned for what seemed like an eternity, then abruptly went limp.

Vetinari released his hold and stepped back. Noticing as he did so that throughout it all, Igor had remained calmly holding the bottle, now half empty. They all sat in silence, watching the liquid slowly drain away. When the bottle was empty, Igor disconnected the tube and carefully withdrew the needle, tying a strip of cloth round the oozing puncture.

"It'th done, apart from the waiting," he said. "I will fetch Thargeant Angua at first light."

Lawn and Igor left the room, leaving Vetinari to resume his bedside vigil. He both longed for and dreaded the moment when Vimes awoke.

* * *

The candle was long since extinguished by the time Vimes' eyes flickered open. Vetinari waited in the darkness, barely breathing, as awareness returned to Vimes' face. 

"Vetinari…?" Vimes muttered, trying to raise himself to a sitting position. Vetinari raised one eyebrow in surprise. He knew he had made no betraying sound, and with the drapes pulled across the room was too dark to see clearly, despite the dawn that had begun to pour over the city.

"How could you tell?" he inquired softly.

"I could…smell you" Vimes said incredulously, staring towards Vetinari in surprise. "Igor came in time then" he continued, dismissing what was obviously a delusion caused by prolonged unconsciousness. "He'll be pleased, especially if he got to try out whatever he kept on about last time."

"He did." Vetinari said flatly. He strove to place himself back into the role of an emotionless leader, the only way he would be able to say what he had to next.

"The only suitable blood was Sergeant Angua's. I gave consent."

Clinging to his impassive façade, Vetinari subconsciously braced himself for the explosion he was sure would follow his words. He would absorb the venting of Vimes' anger in penance, and pray that forgiveness was not too much to hope for. Beside him, Vimes had gone very still. The waves of cold rage and betrayal flowing off him were almost palpable but he remained immobile. Vetinari found himself wishing for a shout or even a blow, anything rather than this icy control that was so reminiscent of himself.

He heard Lawn calling for him from the next room and, despising himself for this sudden cowardice, reluctantly left Vimes to his thoughts. After dealing with a rather flustered Drumknott who had appeared at Lawn's door, he returned.

The first thing that struck him when he entered the room was the chill breeze blowing from the now open window. The second was the empty bed.

* * *

Tbc…………well; now u know why I couldn't give too much away before! I'm not sure if the blood of a werewolf does have the same effect as the bite, but I'm using poetic license to say it does…oh the power!! Hope u liked the twist, as u can imagine the story will now be much longer so disregard me saying it's tailing off. Please review and tell me what u think!! 


	8. Betrayal

A/N: Aww thanks guys! I am so flattered by the response I got to the last chappie…as u may have picked up I was just a bit nervous of the reception it might get, but not anymore thanks to all of u! I've got some really good ideas I hope u'll enjoy…and because the idea has extended the story there should be much more character development…which is always a good thing right? I am also frustrated over chem and history coursework (grr) so angst will abound…like it would have done anyway…ah well. As for the muse sustainers…otherwise known as reviewers (btw, I got two lovely peeps who reviewed twice, so they have 2 responses….its only fair!), in deference to one reviewer, I am now placing the responses at the end of the story:

* * *

**Warning: **They are men, they are in love…and it's with each other. If that makes you squirm there's always the back button.

**Disclaimer:** If I owned Vimes, I would use him for something other than writing fan-fiction.

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**Chapter 8

* * *

**

"_Sir_"

The word was laced with such venom it was a wonder the air that formed it didn't smoke. Vetinari turned to see Sergeant Angua, her body almost shaking with suppressed rage as she glared at him. He fought the urge to back up a pace, an angry werewolf tending to have that effect on even the most composed of people. He stared coolly at her, his leader's mask firmly back in place, waiting for her outrage to overwhelm her normal restraint.

"Igor told me what happened _sir_. I should thank you for saving his life _sir_. Except for the small fact that he might have preferred to die …_sir._"

Few insults could have sounded as vehement as those tightly controlled sentences. Vetinari welcomed them as the penance he so desperately needed. He realised Angua was speaking again.

"…and now you want me to find him _sir_."

Vetinari inclined his head in assent.

"Will it be difficult?"

"The scent should be easy enough to locate…it's following it that will be the problem."

Vetinari noticed Angua had dropped the venomous sir at the end of each sentence. He hoped this was a mark her anger was fading. He would need her full co-operation, unclouded by personal feelings.

"What do you mean?"

"Vimes is no fool. He knows you'll call me in to track him. The only good thing is…I'm pretty sure he won't go through Traitor's Gate."

Vetinari raised one eyebrow in a mute query. Angua moved towards the back room's open door as she answered.

"Because I don't think he's trying to hide."

* * *

Angua stepped past Vetinari into the room. She closed her eyes to focus on other senses, and then took a tentative sniff. The coppery tang of blood was the overriding nasal presence. It snaked beguilingly through her senses and seemed to caress her morphic switches, promising untold delights if only she surrendered and changed. With an effort of will Angua forced it to one side.

She slunk towards the bed, the coloured clouds of smell unfolding in her mind. She dismissed the purple and patchwork streaks of recent movement that were Lawn and Igor respectively. That left her with the two relatively still clouds by the bed. The first was collected around the chair and the bedside, a silvery, metallic drift that could only be the Patrician. She was surprised at the uncertainty and anxiousness coming from the smoke residue, but again she ignored it and focused on her task.

…_there_

On the bed, tainted with pain and betrayal, was the light-blue trace her nose had been questing for. It had collected in a pool, slightly ragged at the edges where Vimes had writhed and thrashed. Angua was about to turn and follow the thread that led to the window and out, when she caught something on the edge of her nasal sight. She sighed. She had hoped against hope that somehow the blood's curse would not have affected Vimes, but there, in the centre of that light-blue cloud, a navy patch of smoke coiled, tendrils winding out away from the centre. His scent was already beginning to change.

Angua opened her eyes and moved towards the door. There was no point in climbing out the window when she could easily pick up the trail under it on the outside. As Angua prepared to face the Patrician once again, it was all she could do to prevent her teeth lengthening. To know what he knew about Vimes and to let Igor continue…it was inhuman.

"_And thanks to him Vimes will learn just how that feels_" she thought bitterly.

* * *

As she stepped out of the room, Vetinari turned to face her. Angua spoke quickly, pre-empting any order he might try to give her.

"Yes, the scent is clear enough and yes I will follow it. But I will do so alone sir."

She prepared to verbally defend herself or even, as a final resort, to beat a hasty retreat, but to her surprise Vetinari simply nodded his agreement and walked out to where, Angua knew, an impassive Drumknott waited with the carriage.

* * *

Angua made her way though an alley to the back of Lawn's house and stopped under the window. It was only a first story, but to have scrambled out without reopening such a freshly closed wound meant Vimes must already be benefiting from the regenerative powers that came with the change. She closed her eyes once again and took a sampling sniff. Under the smell of the normal Ankh-Morpork detritus she had long ago learned to block, she smelt Vimes' odd dual smell. Angua knew that soon, Vimes original scent would be lost under the new, feral scent of what he was becoming.

Angua opened her eyes once more, careful to keep Vimes' scent imprinted on her nasal vision. The result of combining the two senses was she now could see the two-toned blue trail snaking out of the alley and into the next street. As she left the alley, Angua realised she must have been in the room longer than she thought. The sun was now high in the sky, and Angua hoped she would soon find the man she sought.

She followed the trail as it wound through streets and alleyways. At first it headed towards the marketplace, but both Angua and the trail balked in the same place as the taint of silver (however impure) tarnished the air. Angua shuddered. She had forgotten how painful silver was to encounter when you did it for the first time. As a werewolf grew older they grew more used to the taint of it in the air, but Angua could smell Vimes' reaction to the new sensation, and it magnified her own. The trail staggered into a nearby alley, and Angua could smell the panic of the feral dog that had been in it as it had fled to safety.

Angua followed the elusive scent of her commander all day, as it twisted and turned, often doubling back on itself to lead to other parts of the city. Angua concluded it was confusion rather than a desire to shake off pursuit; otherwise she would have come across a scent-bomb by now.

Finally, as dusk began to fall, the trail led Angua to the edge of the city. She followed it out into the cabbage fields until it ended at a wooden storage hut some distance away from the city, half hidden by some stunted trees that had obviously been overlooked by the farmer's compulsive clearing. Angua steeled herself, and eased open the door.

* * *

The shaft of early evening light illuminated the figure, who slumped with his legs hugged to his chest in a heart-wrenchingly child-like gesture. As the light fell on him, Vimes raised his head off his knees and gazed at Angua's concerned face.

"My gods." she murmured softly. Never had she ever seen Vimes appear so lost.

Angua moved into the shed, and saw recognition dawn on his face as the light shining from behind no longer obscured her features. He turned away, and she moved closer and sat down beside him. Angua stretched out a hand, but Vimes flinched away. They sat in an awkward silence which Angua broke.

"Sybil knows you won't be home tonight, though not why. And the Watch think you're on a special assignment."

"Thank you" Vimes said quietly, after a long pause. He turned towards her and Angua cringed mentally at the look of helplessness directed at her.

"It's not the end," she ventured. "I know you sir, you have experience in controlling…inner beasts."

"How…?" Vimes tailed off, not knowing how to articulate his thoughts, but Angua understood. She gave a sad smile, which Vimes gratefully saw contained compassion but no pity.

"It's the way I was born" she said simply.

Angua put out an arm again and this time Vimes allowed it to fall around his shoulders and leant into the understanding comfort it offered. The two werewolves sat in companionable silence as the evening light faded, and then Vimes shifted and straightened, an unspoken signal that he was ready to get to work. They stood in the dim light and Angua turned to him.

"I should be here for the first time. It takes a bit of getting used to."

"Yes."

Vimes paused then continued, "But…not yet. I need some time."

"Can I get you to come back with me tonight?"

Angua read his expression. She recognised it from what she still occasionally saw in the mirror on bad days.

"Well at least I know where to find you then. I'll be back tomorrow sir."

* * *

Angua shut the door behind her and began walking away into the gathering dusk. As she headed towards the distant city lights she paused and looked back towards the building.

"You can go in, but I wouldn't. You may not like his reaction."

Then she left.

Standing in the shadows under the trees, Vetinari smiled thinly. He made a mental note never to underestimate the power of werewolf senses, then walked to the door.

* * *

Vimes turned at the sound of the door entered. Whatever he might have said died on his lips as he saw Vetinari standing in the dim light. Anger began to well up inside him, fuelled by the raw sense of betrayal he could not understand. Vimes felt his ears change and his teeth fight to lengthen, but he viciously repressed the urging to give in to the creature that was now part of him.

"Vimes, I…"

"No!" Vimes snarled, "Don't say you're sorry and don't you dare ask for my forgiveness!"

Vetinari drew himself up and looked at Vimes with all of his Patrician's hauteur.

"I am not sorry for what I did; only what it meant. I would not let you die, even if this was the only alternative."

"But the choice was not yours to make. Maybe the alternative to dieing was one I would not have taken. Life cannot always be under your control."

Vetinari was still, and Vimes felt a sudden need to provoke any sort of reaction from the impassive figure.

"One bite is all it would take. Then you could truly now the price of what you choose for me."

Vetinari still stood there, Vimes' previous words echoing in his mind. Control. It had always come down to control. But now, he somehow knew he had not to control but to trust. Vetinari extended one slender wrist towards Vimes.

"What you must."

Vimes stared at Vetinari for a long moment, then moved in grasping the proffered wrist. Time slowed for Vetinari as he cursed his misjudgement, but then sped up once more as he was pulled close and his mouth captured in a searing kiss.

Vimes poured all his anger, frustration, hurt and fear into the kiss, creating an intensity that left both men trembling. He could feel Vetinari's fingers in his hair as he held the slight figure close, and the slight tremor as both of them let out the tension that had previously gripped them. Vimes felt Vetinari's lips open under the kiss, and then their tongues met as it deepened.

Vimes reluctantly pulled away and stood back.

"Not yet, not until I know if I can forgive you."

Vetinari nodded and, with a last lingering glance, turned to leave. Vimes watched him go. As he left, Vetinari caught the almost inaudible murmur.

"This is not the end."

* * *

Tbc!...

Hope this chapter was worth the wait…and next is the one I hope you've been waiting for…the transformation! Now, the responses I promised you:

_CiraArana_: Glad I'm doing TP proud…apart from the whole slashing his characters thing. Hope this continuation is to your liking!

_Elliot_: Yay…my idea is liked!beams manically I think ure English is incredible…if the grammar of ure reviews is anything to go by u don't have too much work to do! Good luck with ure finals :)!

_Deathwisher_: Yes…I am kinda torturing them a little aren't I! But there may actually be a happy ending...I think.

_Not Your Average_: Now pipshkin…YOU WERE WRONG AND YOU KNOW IT! There, now that's out of my system…thanks for the review. As for the bottles…didn't make this clear but they r meant to be about litre bottles…suspend disbelief goddamnit!

_Katie_: Don't worry, Vimes' reactions will feature very highly in this chapter…and it ain't gonna be pretty.

_Not Your Average_: Another review for the same chappie…I'm honoured! Interesting thought…that'll show me to try and inject realism into TP's world. Don't worry; I'll say it for you…foolish luska!

_Deathwisher_: Another double reviewer! Again…thank you so much, ure babbling meant a lot…especially as ure condoning my method over the original, that's gratifying to say the least. And look…I'm writing too!

_Iceintheink_: Thanks for the praise…and the smut level should rise somewhat in this chappie, mainly because I realised I'm on chapter 8 and they've still only kissed once! This story will be continued…and there will be a sequel too!

_H-Rose_: I made u happy…and ure review made me vv happy! See stories really do spread the love ; ). Glad u like this…hope this next chappie was worth waiting for.

_Fer-de-lance_: Sorry, the comments won't stop…but I moved them to make it easier! The spelling was a little extreme…but I couldn't resist ; ). As for _my_ spellings…I couldn't write it any other way, the americanese annoys me too.


	9. Transformations

A/N: Hey peeps I'm back! Again, sorry for such a long wait, but I had three pieces of coursework shoved on me almost simultaneously and I didn't have time to sleep let alone write. But, I'm on my hols now and even though I'm not meant to go on when I'm home I'm braving the wrath of David to post this for you guys:) . This is the chapter I hope you've been waiting for…hint - the clue is in the title…so I better get on with it.

* * *

SHAMELESS PLUG ALERT

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If you like what I'm doing, check out the work of Not your average…I don't normally plug other's work (even friends) but she's getting really discouraged that no one is reviewing and so I thought I'd ask (if she returns the favour all to the good ;)).

* * *

SHAMELESS PLUG OVER

* * *

Once again thanks to all those who took the time to review, you are food and drink to my muse (who is rather temperamental). Replies follow the story, talking of which… 

**Warning:** Once Upon a Time lived two men who were in love and kissed frequently. Most of the people in the land were content with this, but there was one little pixie who hated even the idea of men in love. The good fairy conjured up a magic spell which she called 'the back button'. The pixie jumped on it and was transported to a place where boys only kissed girls, and lived happily ever after.

**Disclaimer:** If I was PTerry then the Vimes books would be the biggest load of published Mary-Sues in the world…so maybe its best I just write fanfic.

**

* * *

Chapter 9**

* * *

Vimes jerked his head round, but the flash was already gone. He resumed his pacing. The light through the one window had moved round and Vimes knew Angua would soon be returning, but minutes chafed at him as they slowly shuffled by. 

There it was again!

Vimes screwed his eyes shut and ran his hands over his face. For most of the day, at the corner of his vision, he kept seeing coloured flashes, but when he turned to get a better look they would vanish. Using his peripheral vision, Vimes regarded the last area he had seen a flash. As long as he didn't focus on it directly he could clearly see the winding cloud of golden fog, massed next to another of dark blue. Well, whatever it was didn't seem to be about to help or harm him, so Vimes filed it as yet another question to ask Angua when she arrived.

Ever since the transfusion, Vimes had been discovering new changes caused by becoming a werewolf. Some things had been made apparent quicker than others. Vimes could still remember the brief encounter with the silver taint in the air. Hot needles of pain had woven round his brain, stabbing down limbs which were buckling beneath him. A red mist had covered his senses, and the confusion and dizziness had only passed when he had lurched into the nearby alley, putting distance between himself and the market. Judging by Angua's ability to enter the market-place, Vimes guessed the extreme sensitivity must fade with time.

Not all the changes were as bad however. Vimes could already tell his sense of smell had improved drastically. The fact that he could smell Ankh-Morpork from here was not astounding…on a clear day with the wind in the right direction, you could smell Ankh-Morpork in Genua (something the residents complained bitterly about). What was amazing, was that he could smell the cabbages in the field under the city's miasma. Vimes stretched languidly. That was another thing. Soon after arriving in this shack, he had peeled off the shirt he was wearing to check on his stab wound. All that was left of the laceration that had nearly killed him was a livid red scar. Vimes had the feeling that soon that too would fade.

He heard the sound of far away footsteps and, looking out of the window, could see Angua approaching. She was still some distance away, so Vimes added 'improved hearing' to his mental checklist.

* * *

Angua approached the hut and pushed open the door. She could tell immediately, from Vimes' more relaxed stance, that he had begun to come to terms with his new condition. After greeting each other and being quizzed by Vimes on the state of the city in his absence, Angua got down to business. 

"You probably know most of what I'm going to tell you, but I should go over the basics of this first."

Vimes nodded, and she continued.

"You're stronger and faster than a normal man, with better hearing, smell and sight even when you're not in wolf form. You're senses will be heightened further directly after the change."

Listening to herself, Angua realised she sounded similar to the way her father had when she had been on the receiving end of the same type of lesson. Angua had always expected to give it to her children when they too would be entering a world where they were different, not to her commanding officer. Vimes' question distracted her from her reverie.

"What about seeing colours?" he asked hesitantly. Angua frowned, not understanding. Vimes tried rephrasing the question.

"Like…smoke almost?"

"Oh…" said Angua, understanding. "You're not seeing the colour, you're smelling it."

Vimes raised an eyebrow sceptically. Angua flashed him a pained smile.

"Ye Gods, you'll understand when you change…speaking of which."

Night had fallen while they talked, and Angua knew she had delayed long enough.

"Come outside and we'll start" she murmured softly, turning and opening the door.

"Ah door handles, knew there had to be _some_ drawbacks to becoming a werewolf." Vimes muttered sarcastically, before following her out into the chill night.

* * *

Angua turned and looked at him in the starlight, looking as calm as Vimes wished he felt.

"What do I do?" Vimes said, placing himself in her hands.

"Search your mind, find the part of yourself that feels…different."

Vimes turned his thoughts inwards. He could feel what he regarded as himself; the part that made sarcastic remarks about the way the rest of him handled things, but lurking behind that he could feel something different. This part was darker, more feral, yet oddly familiar. Vimes was reminded of what had surfaced in the glacial river in Uberwald, or in that torture chamber…but this was stronger. He nodded to Angua to continue.

"Inside will be an area that feels dormant, waiting. Wake it."

Before he began to follow Angua's instructions, Vimes paused and looked at her.

"Thank you." he said simply, and both knew it was for more than the advice.

Searching his head once more, Vimes found the spot Angua had indicated. He mentally prodded it, then felt the changes begin.

* * *

"Thank you." 

Angua grinned at Vimes' words, then turned to avoid the usual moment of morphic uncertainty. After some moments, Angua turned back to gaze at where her commander had been.

* * *

As dusk fell, Sybil Ramkin watched a close friend murder a woman in a fit of jealous passion, but she wasn't really concentrating. The music washed around her as she sat in her booth at the opera house, but her mind was far from the dying soprano who, despite frantic signals from the conductor, was still managing to punctuate every line with exclamation marks. Sybil was worried about Vimes. 

Angua had come to see her early in the day, early enough that she'd not been unduly concerned, apart from the normal 'he's somewhere and people want him dead' that was background whenever Vimes was out of her sight. But Angua had been so cryptic…and the fact that it was Angua worried her too. Angua almost never came to the house, no matter what the emergency.

Sybil was very worried. Vimes was like a brother to her, though at one time she had hoped he could be something else. After that whole dragon business he had come to have dinner…the most nervous she could ever recall seeing him. She had smiled at him as he raised his glass, and for a moment Sybil's heart had fluttered like the maidens in all those romances that of course she never read, only…flicked through. Vimes' next words had ended that.

"To friendship?"

And the slight question in the toast had shown her that Vimes knew what she wanted but that this was all he could offer in return. Sybil had realised she had to decide whether she could be happy with just friendship with Vimes, knowing it could never be any more. Then suddenly Sybil realised yes, she could.

Lascia! Ch'io pianga! _Mia cruda sorte!_

The final tortured squeaks from the soprano brought her back from the past to her present worries.

* * *

Angua gazed at where her commander had been. In his place was a lean black wolf, with occasional scars showing through his glossy pelt. This was the first werewolf she had seen transformed that wasn't a relative, and she was intrigued by the differences. Angua knew she always looked deceptively refined in wolf form, and Wolf had just looked like the brute he was. Vimes was slender and rangy, but with air of controlled ferocity. Even as a human Angua could tell he exuded the same type of aura that Gavin had worn like a cloak. He was looking at her with one ear cocked, the wolf equivalent of raising eyebrows in amazement. 

"Turn around and I'll be with you in a minute."

Vimes did so, and Angua completed her own change.

* * *

Vimes turned and surveyed the newly transformed Angua. He had seen her in wolf form before, but she looked different somehow. She started towards him and Vimes bristled involuntarily, but as Angua reached him she squatted and licked his muzzle. Vimes had no clue why, but that felt right somehow, just as it was right for him to carry his tail above the level of his back. He noticed Angua was keeping her tail lower, and for some reason that also was the way it should be. 

Aware of Angua watching with an almost maternal air, Vimes took a look around the landscape. He was aware his sight was better in the dark than it had been, but everything seemed flat and colourless, until he took a smell. Instantly the night time vista was awash with colour, in twisting trails and pools of scent. Vimes could see the fraying golden ribbon that was Angua's trace, right up until it was swallowed by the hulking black mass that was Ankh-Morpork. Looking back towards the hut he could see…

The piles of clothing belonging to himself and Angua.

"Yes, we will need some careful diplomacy when changing back."

Vimes turned his gaze back to Angua.

"We can talk normally?"

"Not really…its just you're hearing in the same language your speaking. Always useful, especially as wolves aren't that good at sign language."

"So we could communicate with real wolves too?"

"If you can get close enough to hear what they're saying, you're too close. Real wolves…don't really like us."

Angua shook herself to drive away the memories, then looking at Vimes she crouched low as if to spring before whirling round and sprinting into the night, a teasing howl floating away behind her. Vimes ran out his tongue in a wolf laugh, then followed her into the blackness.

* * *

Tbc……………… 

Hope you enjoyed that…some parts were harder to write than others. In case anyone was wondering, the Italian I used means:

'Leave me to languish, leave me to die here.'

It's from an opera by Handel and I thank him for the lone of it. And now to my superlative reviewers:

_Elliot:_ Glad you think so! Sorry for the long wait…how'd the English final go? Stupid teacher…being able to use colloquialisms shows what a good grasp u have of language…not a bad thing!

_Rowana S:_ Ooh sweet praise! Thanks soo much this was a wonderful review. Sorry u've had to wait so long for the update, hope you're still interested!

_Deathwisher:_ Your hinting has (finally) produced results. Interesting point about Vetinari ( damn damn damn!), I'll have to put something in next time.

_Iceintheink: _Yay, you picked up exactly the idea I was going for! Really sorry about the grammar, I try to proof-read but sometimes the brain reads what it wants to see not what's there…

_Erin McClanahan: _Believe me, the werewolf bit shocked me too! Glad u like my flashbacks too, though really it just gave me an excuse to read PTerry again! Remember, Vimes is a Duke cause Vetinari made him one…not due to marrying Sybil.

_Estelendur:_ Yay you're back! Was worried I'd scared you off for good. Hope this chappie is as good as the last three.

_Myrndraug: _Wow, someone actually reads my fevered ramblings (not the story the other bit ;) )! Hope you liked it.

_Not Your Average:_ Ha, knew we'd get you back. You didn't think I could update at home but LOOK! Muwahahahahah! (cough) sorry. And look, this chappie Angua doesn't us a single word beginning with v (yes I checked, sad or what!). Enjoy the break in the plot, it was for you…can you tell which disc character I'm taking the p/ss of… huh can ya?

Well, till next time!


	10. Coming Home

A/N: I seem to do this an awful lot but, yet again, sorry for the long gap between updates. I've been so buried under revision I though my muse had suffocated, but despite the fact I still have A2 exams to do she started clamouring to be heard once more…so here I am! Seriously, I am panicking and very stressed, but I'll try not to let it interfere with this. One extra thing, in the last chapter I mentioned Angua getting lessons from her father and I think this may have confused some people. I didn't mean she was being taught how to be a werewolf (as Not Your Average pointed out she'd known that for a while) I meant he was teaching her how she would be different from normal humans, as previously she had been surrounded by other werewolves. Sorry if that wasn't clear! I can't quite believe this story has made it to 10 chapters, and I want to thank everyone who has supported me this far. Review replies…as always…at the end, along with copious thanks:

**Warning:** If you think romantic love can only exist between a man and a woman, this story may be too advanced for you.

**Disclaimer:** Does PTerry worry about A2 exams…no? Maybe it's because he isn't a 17 year old girl!

**

* * *

Chapter 10

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**

Vimes slunk through the streets of Ankh-Morpork as the pale light of dawn oozed over the horizon. After some diplomatic 'close your eyes till I cough' changing and dressing, he and Angua had parted ways. Angua had gone back to the watch-house, ready to excuse him for another day, while Vimes headed to his second home.

The thought of Sybil's reaction plagued Vimes. On the one hand, she had always seemed fine with the idea of werewolves. She and Angua had taken to each other with the desperate air of women who spend most of their lives surrounded by men, and Sybil could even be civil to those werewolves who kidnapped her with possible murderous intentions.

_"But on the other hand,"_ began the more treacherous part of his mind, climbing onto its soapbox,_ "she's never exactly had to live with one, has she? Not in her own home. A dangerous beast that could threaten her dragons? You haven't got a hope."_

**_Bingley-Bingley-Beep!_**

Vimes jerked reflexively, but realised soon after the sound couldn't be _his_ watch, seeing as that was currently still on the battlefield at Gebra, unless some damn fool had picked it up and tried to use it. Sure enough, a few seconds later there was a rattle as the watch landed on the cobbles after being thrown through a nearby window. Vimes wished he still had his watch…it was one of those times kicking something down the pavement would have been very satisfying. The unwary traveller might have tried kicking one of the various bits of debris that littered the Ankh-Morpork streets, but that was inadvisable. At best you would have a shoe that could never be worn again, at worst a very irate gnoll that was now attached to your foot.

* * *

Vimes slipped through the large iron gates and began the approach to the Ramkin house. Remembering how early it was, he stole round to the back door, but before Vimes could even rattle the doorknob Wilikins had it open. 

"Good morning sir. Miss Ramkin will be overjoyed to see you safe and sound when she awakens. Until then, if you would be so kind as to follow me to the Vibrantly Yellow Morning Room, I will see to your breakfast."

Vimes mutely followed Wilikins into the house, attempting to decide whether all butlers gained seemingly precognitive skills as part of basic training, or whether Wilikins just never slept.

A short time later, as Vimes was finishing some very black coffee, he looked up in time to be enveloped by the slightly anxious whirlwind that was Sybil. He was pulled up into a strong-armed hug that would have done Detritus proud.

"Sam, I was worried! Angua was so evasive I was sure something dreadful had happened." Sybil paused, then added ruefully, "Well, more dreadful than usual anyway."

Sybil then released him, and as he tried manfully not to stagger she looked him up and down.

"Honestly Sam, the girl who does the washing is fed up with you coming home covered in blood all the time. At least this time it can't be yours…what with the amount, but it stains terribly."

Vimes looked down at his uniform which, sure enough, was stained with blood down one side from the other night's adventures. Vimes hadn't had time to look before, but now he was shocked at the amount there was. Vetinari had not been exaggerating when he said without the transfusion Vimes would have died. He looked back up, meeting Sybil's eyes. He knew the next part would be awkward, however he began.

"Sybil…it is my blood."

Expressions of disbelief, swiftly followed by shock and panic flitted across Sybil's features. Vimes continued hurriedly, before Sybil could speak.

"It's a long story, one it would be best if we sat down for."

They sat facing each other, Sybil directing a questioning look at him. Vimes began his story. After some time past he finally reached the end.

"...so I'm a werewolf now." He finished lamely, not daring to meet her eyes.

* * *

Drumknott was worried. The Patrician was…well he was fine, but not the sort of fine where everything is ok. This was more like the moment of calm and quiet you get after you hear the ice creak, just before it shatters and falls apart under your feet. 

Vetinari was still just as competent in dealing with the various aspects of the city, and was certainly not the sort of man to be caught staring gloomily into space in an unguarded moment, an artistic tear gathering in the corner of one eye.

No, outwardly there was no sign of anything wrong. But then mountains always look fine until half of them slips sideways to bury a small, picturesque village (complete with blonde, pigtailed goat-girls).

Drumknott was definitely worried. He knew what he doubted even the Patrician could admit to himself – that Vetinari needed Vimes, and that the reverse was also true.

For Vetinari, Vimes was the one man he could truly and completely trust. Drumknott knew he himself was not entirely trusted, though he didn't let it bother him unduly. There was a difference between deducing someone wouldn't be involved in a particular plot; and knowing, beyond all shadow of a doubt, that whatever the situation that person was irreproachable. Drumknott knew while he was the former, Vimes definitely fell into the latter.

And for Vimes, Vetinari represented a constant. Vimes knew Vetinari always acted for the good of the city…the eventual good anyway. Vimes could trust that if ever Vetinari betrayed him it would be for a higher goal, not simply to line his own pocket, which was strangely comforting. And there was also the fact that, although Vetinari appeared to distance himself for the efforts of the Night Watch, he was more in the way of a silent partner – even if all that was needed was to wind Vimes up enough to fuel that extra effort.

Drumknott sighed quietly as he worked through yet another piece of paperwork. Averting suspicion before when Vetinari had been absent was hard enough. If he didn't find some way to reconcile the two men soon, who knew what might happen.

* * *

Sybil cleared her throat. 

"A werewolf. That's…" she tailed off.

Vimes flinched. He had just about convinced himself that Sybil would understand, like she always did. But it looked like this had pushed her too far. A black depression welled up within him.

"What?" he said listlessly. "Horrifying, ghastly, threatening? Those are some words I came up with when I heard."

"Well actually I was about to say fascinating…but I suddenly thought you might take it the wrong way."

Vimes snapped his head up to meet Sybil's warm gaze. The shock at her words must have been plastered across his face as she continued, with a slight hint of reproach in her tone.

"Did you really think so little of me Sam? If I can cope with dragons, trolls and even the occasional visit from Nobby, I'm not going to turn away a friend because of a little thing like this."

Vimes coloured slightly, as relief mixed with embarrassment. No matter how long he lived with Sybil, she always managed to exceed his expectations. He began to apologise, but she cut him off.

"Don't worry about it Sam. Now, seeing as you have the day off from the yard today…you can help me feed the dragons."

* * *

Tbc…though probably not till after my exams. 

Now, to the people I always pretend I'm not looking for when I open my email account:

_Rowana S_: Thanks for the ego boost…always much appreciated. I hope your GCSE's went well…Good Luck!

_Elliot_: Aw you definitely don't sound like you had a good day. I agree though…topics are so limitedL. Glad you liked the chapter, the senses bit took a long time to write so I'm glad it was ok. I hadn't really thought about the ramifications of Vimes and Angua (though his is sort of her cub now), but thanks to you I think it will be appearing shortly! Good luck with English…give your teacher a glower from me!

_Gestalt_: Love the name. And also the fact that you like the idea and the story! If you like V/V slash, there are other stories (which you've probably found by now) that do it too.

_Not Your Average_: Dear god that is long! I will of course expect that length in future though. Ahh sugar…it's got us through some tough times, that and our old friend monosodium glutamate. The con-crit demons have been duly noted than had a banshee set on them, but the cookie was most welcome. Christine will be bashed more later if I can possibly get it in…if not she may be murdered in the sequel. As for David Eddings…well we have that lovely story planned don't we. And the name is Lucy!

_CiraArana_: Glad you liked it. As of yet _I_ don't really know how Vimes will act as a werewolf, but if sure it will come to me…I hope.

_BHS_: Ah those v's…they get everywhere! Glad you like it though…and lucky you, you get a quick update unlike the rest of these poor reviewers.


	11. Fears Overcome

A/N: Woo-hoo, my exams are finally over! Now I can finally get back to the important things in life, namely writing, until I have to panic about the results day. Don't panic you say? Well as anyone who knows me will tell you, that's like asking water to flow uphill, so all I can do is try to put it off as long as possible. Anyway, I hope people are still interested in this story, as I'm fairly sure there will only be a couple more chapters…until the sequel that is! I had a lot of fun writing parts of this chapter, and I hope the humour I was trying for comes across. The revelation about Constable Ping is in part inspired by and dedicated to 'Monstrous Regiment', which I just re-read. Astute PTerry fans will be able to guess from that what the revelation is. Another huge thank you to all those who have read and reviewed…it is truly appreciated. See to the end for replies…though I hope you read that little bit of story that comes in the middle:

**Warning:** In this story, men _know_ each other. I mean that in the way the Bible uses the term 'knew'…so you have been warned!

**Disclaimer: **If I did own the Discworld series, I doubt I would be frantically trying to get a paying job so I can eat at university.

* * *

**Chapter 11

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**

Vimes paused with his hand on the watch house door. Even though he didn't want to admit it, Vimes was dreading going in. No matter what story Angua had concocted, his absence would still have been noted and remarked on. For that matter, Vimes had no idea what story Angua had come up with, which would leave him in an awkward situation if he was asked for specifics.

Vimes was also dreading the explanations he would have to give. He had already decided it would be a bad idea to tell the whole watch…in fact the fewer people that knew the better. If the change became common knowledge, Vimes knew his position would be compromised. The rich and powerful in Ankh-Morpork were happy (or at least not vocally unhappy) to have a werewolf represented in the Watch, it allowed them to hold up their head in society and explain how forward thinking the city was, yes indeed. But those same people would react very differently to a werewolf in their midst, and Vimes couldn't afford to have his job made even more difficult than it already was. Vimes also knew he didn't want to put Vetinari in the position of choosing between supporting him or bowing to the majority, a choice where no one really won.

Carrot, Colon and Nobby were the best and only choice.

As he entered the watch house, Vimes became aware of something strange. He could smell Carrot was upstairs, and could see the fresh orange trail that marked his earnest passage. There was only one other person in the Watch house, Vimes having timed his arrival deliberately earlier than most of the Watch. The scent of strangeness emanated from him. Constable Ping looked up from the desk as Vimes approached and smiled in greeting. Vimes nodded in acknowledgement, trying to appear outwardly normal whilst at the same time furiously analysing the odd overtone to the bluish-white cloud that was Ping. Vimes was halfway up the stairs to his office when it hit him. Ping smelt…female? Shaking his head, Vimes put it down as simply being unused to the new senses at his disposal, but made a mental note to question Angua later.

Vimes slipped into his office and sat behind his desk, groaning at the sight of the paper pile which seemed to have grown even larger in his absence. A moment later he heard the creak on the floor outside that signalled Carrot was about to knock.

"Come in" Vimes said, not waiting. He hoped Carrot had simply heard him on the stairs and not seen his lost in thought outside.

"Good to see you back sir," Carrot enthused. "Was the Patrician's assignment successful?"

"Err, yes…" Vimes said, trying to look as though he knew exactly what had happened on said mission and hoping Angua had been vague. "But I'll need to see you and Igor, as well as Angua, Colon and Nobby as soon as they arrive."

Thankfully, Carrot seemed to pick up on Vimes' desperate plea that no further questions be asked, and smoothly carried on.

"Now you're back, I need you to sign the wages chitty sir. I put it on your desk."

At Vimes' despairing look Carrot added wearily, "Second pile from the left, by the half buried coffee mug."

After Vimes had found the chitty and (by resting on one of the more stable piles) signed it, Carrot took it and then continued.

"There's also a new recruit to be signed in today, he arrived shortly after you did. Shall I send him up?"

Vimes personally thought this was the last thing he wanted to deal with now, but then the job always did come before personal preferences. He nodded his assent, and waited until Carrot had gone to let his head sink down to rest on the tallest stack of paperwork. It was times like this his hand wanted to slide to the drawer, but Vimes knew all that was in it know was that damn inspirational paperweight Carrot had got him in the days the man…dwarf, didn't know any better.

The next minute, Vimes raised his head quickly, and not just because the pile was showing suspicions of sliding. Something had entered the watch house, and its very presence was a blow to his senses. It was like a throbbing locus of red moving up the stairs to his office, and the closer it got, the greater the feeling of dizzying pain grew, pain that was strangely familiar. If Vimes had been in wolf form, whatever it was would have had him snarling, ears flat against his head. As, however, he was not in wolf form, and such behaviour would have been deemed strange when coming from the commander of the watch, he did nothing. Well, almost nothing. An astute observer would have noticed the slight tightening of his jaw, and the tension in his frame, that belied his seeming calm.

Carrot ushered the new recruit into the office, but Vimes was distracted by the waved of red that originated from around the new boy's neck. Vimes finally recognised what he could feel, it was identical to in the marketplace when he had encountered silver for the first time. As he went through the automatic ritual of giving the shilling and the oath, Vimes was seething with rage, not so much for himself as for Angua. This recruit had come into the Watch wearing silver, knowing full well of the presence of a werewolf in the ranks. Vimes was also trying to think of a way to call the boy on this. He couldn't simply reveal it, not without explaining just how he could feel the taint of the silver in the air.

Luckily, the problem was solved for him. As the recruit leant forward to sign his name, the silver coin he had on a chain around his neck slipped out of his shirt. Carrot's sudden intake of breath let Vimes know he was not the only one to see the coin, and realise the ramifications. As Vimes reached out, his mind was already screaming at what he was going to do. Vimes ignored it, thinking of a similar situation with Rust and a lump of coal from the fire.

This time, however, it was far worse. As Vimes' fingers closed round the coin to snatch it from the boy's neck, the pain shot in waves down his arm.

"What is this?" Vimes snarled, as agony fogged his mind. Not waiting for an answer he continued, "You would wear bloody silver in the watch."

"B-but sir," stammered the now terrified youth, "There's a _werewolf _in the watch…"

"Who happens to be a valued member of said watch and your superior officer," Vimes cut him off icily. "Get him out of my sight," he added to Carrot.

For a minute it looked as though the young man might try to further his case, but one look at Vimes' face persuaded him that suicide was not a good way to further his career.

Carrot took the boy out of the office with none of his usual cheeriness. After a few second muted conversation, Carrot was back.

"I sent him to the palace to deliver the…"

Carrot trailed off because Vimes had opened his hand and let the necklace fall to the desk. In the centre of his palm was an angry red burn. Carrot's face remained carefully blank, but Vimes knew that was deceptive. Mercifully, at that moment, the creaking stairs heralded the arrival of the others he needed to tell.

* * *

Drumknott looked up as someone entered the room. A nervous young man in a watch uniform was standing in the doorway, a crumpled wage chitty held in his shaking hand. As he waved him to take a seat, Drumknott idly wondered what the boy had done to annoy Vimes, resulting in a trip to the Patrician on what was obviously his first day. Usually Vimes allowed new recruits to be fully prepared by senior officers before allowing them anywhere near Vetinari.

A few minutes later, when he was back from telling Vetinari of his visitor, he sneaked a quick look at the lad. The sound of the clock was obviously getting to him. He kept flinching whenever a tick was too early, and you could visibly see him straining to hear the tock each time it was that half moment too late. Drumknott pitied the boy's timing. Due to recent events, Vetinari was less tolerant than usual of those who came to see him. This boy didn't have a prayer.

* * *

Vimes sat back as the senior watchmen began to file out of his office. Their reactions had been all he hoped and expected from them, shock and anger at the situation and the choices made, but no reservations about what he now was. He had asked Angua to stay behind, but before the others left, he had one last thing to say.

"If anyone breaths a word of this to Reg…" Vimes paused and gave a predatory grin, "I will be very unhappy."

This got some grins from the squad as they left. Igor had hung back with Angua and now he approached the desk and began talking in a conspiratorial whisper.

"Ath you know thur, Igors have exthperience working for thuch kinds of mathter. If you ever have any little jobth for me, even the odd body to remove, I'm happy to thurve."

Vimes didn't dare look at Angua, whose shoulders were shaking with silent laughter. Ye Gods, you could take the Igor out of Uberwald but you couldn't take the Uberwald out of the Igor.

"That…won't be necessary," Vimes managed.

Igor shrugged, an interesting manoeuvre for an Igor, and left. Angua closed the door after him and moved closer to Vimes.

"I was wondering when he'd get round to making that offer."

"You knew?" Vimes exclaimed.

"Of course. He made me the same offer soon after he arrived here."

Vimes suddenly remembered the reason he had asked Angua to stay.

"About Constable Ping…" He began, and then tailed off.

Angua grinned broadly as she replied.

"Yes, _she_ is very happy in the watch. Guess the Borogravians aren't the only ones to try a bit of cross-dressing to get ahead."

The smile left her face as she moved to more serious matters.

"I heard what happened earlier, Carrot told me as the others left."

"I'm sorry," Vimes murmured. "I never noticed before."

"How could you have done." She replied wearily. "Besides, he isn't the only one, there are many more like it."

Vimes made to speak but Angua cut him off.

"It's ok. Once they get to know me most stop wearing whatever it was, and those that don't usually go to another job as soon as one is offered. People will always have prejudices, however much a well meaning Watch commander tries to intimidate them out."

She turned to leave, but just before she went out the door, Vimes heard her whisper:

"But thanks for trying."

* * *

Tbc………

* * *

And now the replies to those people kind enough to stick with these ravings! 

_Rowana__ S:_ Finally, validation for my Sybil! She's the character I find hardest to write, so any praise relating to her is extremely welcome. Thanks for the luck also, it came in very handy!

_Gestalt:_ With praise like that, how could I resist updating to see if the pattern holds? I hope my exams went well too, so lets hope somebody's listening to both of us!

_Not your average:_ I am updating this rather than eating at school, so I hope you're happy with it! This is longer than before, and I'm not lying this time. There is another Drumknott insert this time, so go-go personality man. And as for the dark side of the force, that way only leads to copious burning and melodramatic outbursts, so I'd stay away if I were you.

_Deathwisher:_ You're back! I saw your account was no longer active and feared the worst, but here you are glaring at me once again. Hope your questions as to the watchmen's reactions were covered in this chapter, if not, I will try to fix my plot holes better in future!

_Jumping-Jo:_ Here is your update, and as for the undead thing…blame my muse and plot bunnies.

_Elliot:_ Well done, you survived the school system…at least for now. Glad another person liked Sybil, I find her really hard to write convincingly and it always takes me ages. I'm not sure exactly how old Drumknott is, but I always think of him as young to middle-aged at the most.

_Alugilac_: Glad you understand, and here is another update. I hope you like it as much!

_L'esthete_: Now I wonder who this could be? Definitely the most mature review I have ever received thus far…even though the flattery is a tad shameless. I hope my writing continues to live up to your high standards.


	12. Lovers Reconciled

A/N: Well here we have it, the final chapter! Its been a long road…much longer than I initially thought it would be. I just want to thank everyone who has stuck with the story (and my erratic updates), I never expected so many people to take an interest and it really encouraged me to keep writing. I also hope you all still like it enough to come back for the sequel which I'll start work on soon. This chapter is a first for me…not only the first I write as an 18 year old off to uni…but the first on my new laptop (woohoo!). Unfortunately, this does mean that all the Discworld spellings I added to my old spellchecker have gone, meaning once again the computer constantly tries to change Vimes into Vies and Ankh-Morpork into Ankh-Moorpark (to name but a few). Hopefully I'll catch all typos…but I ask you to be lenient! Thanks to all my reviewers, see the end for my replies…but I hope you'll take in the chapter on your way down. by the way, whereI use two line dividers together signals the start then end of the flashback sequence.

**Warning:** If you've read the story from chapter 1, you know there's slash in this. If you haven't…what the hell are you doing starting at chapter 12?

**Disclaimer:** If you said I wrote like Pterry, I'd thank you. If you said I looked like him, I'd punch you. Funny how the world works isn't it?

**

* * *

Chapter 12** **

* * *

**

Vimes proceeded slowly through the Shades to his destination. For weeks he had been ignoring it but, as ever, his copper's instinct refused to let him leave well alone. Vimes wished he could hate Vetinari. That evening, and the day that followed it he was sure he did, and was also sure the feeling was permanent. Yet seeing Vetinari again, when he had come to the shack, had thrown Vimes' feelings into turmoil. In some ways, he wanted to hold on to his anger and refuse to forgive. That would certainly be easier in the long run, as neither he or Vetinari were the sort to let something so trivial as love or lust interfere with the service they owed to the city. However, things were not that simple.

Vimes couldn't deny what he felt for Vetinari, and neither did he truly want to. With more rational hindsight Vimes had seen the blood staining his clothes, and in his profession you quickly came to know that when that much blood left a body you might very well have begun a murder investigation. That knowledge was coupled with the fact that Vimes was beginning to come to terms with what he had become. He couldn't deny that there were benefits that came with being a werewolf, despite the slightly more obvious drawbacks. Vimes also was ready to admit to himself that he probably would have done the same in Vetinari's place. It was human instinct to try to preserve life whatever the cost, and this instinct was only magnified by the deeper feelings both men had for each other.

It was these feelings that had drawn Vimes to where he was currently standing, under the creaking sign of the only person there that night who could tell Vimes what he so desperately needed to know. Vimes reached out a hesitant hand and knocked on Lawn's door. The sight of Lawn opening the door and standing there, with what Vimes fervently hoped was some sort of cooking utensil, immediately brought back vivid memories of the time Vimes had spent living as a man from his past. It almost felt strange not to have the eye patch covering half of his vision anymore. Lawn looked at him with no surprise what so ever.

"I thought you would be back at some point," he said impassively. "You never struck me as a man who would live with unanswered questions."

He turned and went back into the house, a silent invitation for Vimes to follow. As he slid out of sight into the next room, he called over his shoulder.

"If you want some lunch I'm just cooking liver…lamb."

Some time later, Vimes sat in the familiar kitchen, thinking how to frame the question he wanted to ask.

"What have you been doing since…"

"Since we buried a body I thought was yours?" Lawn cut in. "Not much. The revolution spectacularly failed to change anything, but then you knew that anyway. Always work for a back-door doctor though…whoever's in charge."

Lawn fixed Vimes with a searching look.

"What are you here for?"

"Answers," Vimes said succinctly. "I need to know what happened the other night…what sort of state I was in when I ended up here."

Lawn smiled sardonically.

"Well, you had more clothes on than the first time you required my services," he began.

* * *

Lawn looked down at the man who had passed out just inside his door. This _was_ Keel. The eye patch was gone, and the livid scar faded to a white seam that bisected one eye, but the rest of the face was identical. However, he also recognised the man he had only ever seen from a distance. All of Ankh-Morpork knew Vimes but Lawn thought he was probably the only one who knew that, despite the impossibility, Vimes was also Keel - a man that should be long dead. Throwing Vimes' arm over his shoulder, Lawn began to half carry, half drag Vimes into his operating room as he had done with so many clients in the past. He could see the trail of blood Vimes was leaving on the floor behind them and, from the amount of it there was, knew he would have to work fast. 

Getting Vimes up on the table, he quickly removed his breastplate to allow better access to the wound. As he did so, Lawn noticed the pallor of Vimes' skin, and how cold and clammy it had become. Lawn's fears were confirmed when he felt for Vimes' pulse and found it rapid and weak. Vimes had obviously lost a dangerous amount of blood, and more was still welling from the gaping rent as Lawn carefully peeled the soaked undershirt up from it. The colour of the blood and the way it pulsed from the gash told Lawn a minor artery must have been cut. He doubted it was major, as that would have caused Vimes to bleed out long before reaching help, but it also meant the injury could not simply be stitched closed.

After slapping a rough dressing on Vimes' side to buy time, Lawn moved over to his instrument tray and chose a long flat cautery which he began to heat. As the metal began to tarnish, then glow, Lawn sized up Vimes' still form. He reckoned the man was too far under to put up any resistance, which was good as Lawn doubted there was the time needed to strap him down. Lawn advanced on Vimes and positioned the cautery, then with one smooth movement removed the dressing and pressed the heated metal to his side. Vimes' panting breaths quickened to an almost scream but, as Lawn had hoped, unconsciousness did not release its hold.

Lawn bound Vimes' side in a proper dressing. Carefully, so as not to reopen the wound it had been so vital to close, he then moved Vimes to the bed where he could be kept warm against the shock that had set in. Lawn knew all he could do now was to wait.

* * *

His tale finished, Lawn sat back to observe Vimes' reaction. Sure enough, the other man didn't hold his silence for long. 

"So what were my chances?"

"By the time Vetinari arrived? To be honest, all I could do was wait to see if you were going to die that night or the morning after," Lawn said bluntly. "What saved you was that strange man of yours. If the doctors around here got to hear of him, they would probably report him to the Priest's Guild for performing unauthorised miracles."

Vimes smiled at this, then a thought struck him.

"I've got a proposition for you," he said. "Igor may be a medical genius, but he hasn't yet mastered being in two places at once."

Vimes paused for a mental shudder as he thought how Igor might try to achieve this turn of phrase literally. Wrenching his mind from that disturbing image, he continued.

"We need another doctor in the Watch, one who's idea of curing a patient isn't opening a hole in their skull to let the bad thoughts out. The money's regular, and Igor's willing to share those miracles."

Lawn sat in silence for a moment.

"Well," he said, "As much as I love not knowing where the money for my next meal is coming, I think I'll have to take you up on that offer. Give me some time to gather my instruments and I'll report to the Watch House."

Vimes left Lawn to pack and headed back to the Watch House. As he sat at his desk, Vimes' hand drifted down to the drawer…but not in search of a bottle. He opened it, and took out a small calendar which had that day and the two following it ringed heavily. It was hardly necessary however. Vimes now knew why Angua always seemed so tense around a full moon; his whole being was on edge, like the feeling he got on the streets when he knew he was being watched. Vimes cursed the fact that crime had been unusually low during the past weeks…anything would have been better than just sitting here, with the impending full moon making him even more irritable than usual. It had got so bad that people had taken to covering their necks when he was around, without quite knowing why they were doing so.

Maybe it was this urge to do something, coupled with what Lawn had told him, that helped Vimes make up his mind. Whatever it was, when Carrot knocked with his familiar question, Vimes knew what he was going to do.

"The wages chitty is here for you to sign sir. Shall I get Officer Privin to take it again?"

"No, I think since going on patrol with Angua he's realised the silver was a mistake. I'll take him out sometime soon to make sure though."

"Who do you want me to send then?"

"I'll go.

* * *

Drumknott glanced again at Vetinari's closed office door. The tension in the atmosphere had grown worse during the passing days, which did have some advantages. The usual stream of aggrieved nobles had dried to a mere trickle and the guild leaders seemed suddenly willing to overlook perceived slights to their dignity which previously would have had them rushing to complain, in aggrieved tones saved and polished specially for the occasion. Drumknott did miss the sight of them sitting nervously in the waiting room before hand, almost as much as he missed their smug expressions fading on the way out as their brains finally caught up to translating what Vetinari had actually said, rather than what they first assumed he had meant. 

However, what he missed more was the sense that everything was as it should be. Vetinari was ostensibly running the city in the way he always had, but Drumknott, who spent virtually every waking moment in the man's presence, knew something was subtly different. Vetinari had lost the amusement he had always taken in maintaining the city, balancing the myriad power struggles and trapping the participants in a web of their own making until they were working for the city, rather than against it. Without this single element, the web was beginning to fray.

Drumknott was returned from his dark thoughts by the sound of footsteps in the passage outside, and of the door opening. Seeing who it was, he smiled. It looked like Ankh-Morpork would be pulled from the brink of disaster yet again.

* * *

As Vimes entered the waiting room, he was surprised to see a smile flash across the normally inexpressive secretary's face as the man looked up. Vimes was also surprised when, instead of being motioned to sit as he usually was, Drumknott immediately stood and knocked on the door leading to Vetinari's office. 

"A Watchman is here with the chitty sir."

"Send him in then," came the terse reply.

As Vimes entered, wondering with a growing suspicion why Drumknott had not announced him by name, a flash of movement caught his eye as he turned to close the door. As Drumknott had turned to return to his desk, Vimes had been almost sure he saw the other man wink.

Vimes walked to the desk, watching Vetinari's bent form as the man read one of the myriad reports Vimes knew crossed his desk every day. Vetinari did not look up, even when Vimes placed the small piece of paper on the desk in front of him. He simply reached out a hand to take the chitty, then glanced down to affirm it had the requisite signature on it. Seeing that it had, Vetinari added his neat signature next to Vimes' scrawl, then pushed the paper back.

"There. Take that down to the treasury and they'll give out the week's wages."

"Thank you sir," Vimes replied, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

At the sound of Vimes' voice, the man at the desk stiffened. As Vetinari slowly raised his head, Vimes was treated to a sight that he had never before seen, and probably never would again. The glimpse was brief, as Vetinari quickly returned his face to its usual expressionless state, but Vimes would never forget seeing a look of surprise on Vetinari's face.

Vetinari rose from behind the desk and moved so he was facing Vimes. The two men stared at one another, each drinking in his first sight of the other for over a week. The silence stretched out then suddenly, as if an inaudible signal had been given, both men reached for each other. Vimes felt Vetinari's lips on his in a passionate kiss that both amazed and thrilled him, and he willingly parted his lips to allow the other man access. Vimes could feel Vetinari's hands tangled through his hair, as Vimes ran his own hands over the lithe back and shoulders that flexed and arched at his touch. The men pressed close, as if to deny the distance that had previously separated them.

Vetinari felt Vimes' lips twist into a smile under his, a smile he knew he was echoing. The kisses lost their initial frenzy, becoming languid and gentle, until the two men simple stood holding each other. Outside, at his desk, Drumknott let out a relieved sigh.

"Thank you," he whispered to no one in particular, little realising someone was listening, and appreciated the thanks.

**

* * *

Epilogue

* * *

**

Vimes sat on the lawn to the back of the house he and Sybil shared. After his reconciliation with Vetinari, he had returned here to wait for the night, and the transformation it would bring. Now he sat, looking at the city sprawled out below, watching the sun dip below the horizon. As the last oozing red rays departed, Vimes lay back to watch the stars begin to appear. As the darkness deepened, moonlight began to bleach the landscape.

To Vimes, it felt as though the light did not just shine on his skin but through it. He could feel the silvery rays penetrating his body and bathing his brain, invoking the creature that slept behind his thoughts. His mind seemed to flex, and he could feel the changes begin once more as the beast awoke. It was a different feeling to his first, cautious change. This time it was an irresistible force which swept through him, as if the moon was a fire burning away his human form, distilling him into the essence of the feral life that most bound in shackles of civilisation.

Fully transformed, Vimes stepped purposefully free of the clothes he had been wearing and headed down into the city. The night air wafting in from the plains enticed him with the promise of the hunt, but Vimes resisted its urgings. This night, at least, he had a more pressing task to undertake.

* * *

Vetinari stood alone in the darkness of the palace garden. He often enjoyed coming out here at night, when the bustle of the city was mostly still and familiar shapes took on new form in the moonlit shadows. Tonight was different however. His honed senses had picked up the fact that he was no longer alone, and Vetinari calmly waited for whoever it was to make themselves known, however inadvertently they might do it. 

He saw a shadow detach itself from the deep blackness by the garden wall and slink rapidly across the lawn. As the shape fluidly leapt over the ho-ho, Vetinari realised who it was. He stood and watched as the black wolf made its way towards him and sat calmly by his side. Vetinari realised the meaning of the gesture. That Vimes would come to him in wolf form let Vetinari know he was truly forgiven.

* * *

Far away from the city, on the heights of Dunmanifestin, a woman gazed at the pieces in her hand. Her green eyes shone as she smiled down on them. The Lady sighed as she replaced them in her box of pieces, where they would be ready for the coming game. She had done all in her power to prepare them for the moves of Fate, helped by the fact that neither man called on her. Now all that remained was to see how the dice would fall.

* * *

The End

* * *

And there we have it, the end of Cities Apart! I could possibly have stretched this into two chapters, but I thought I'd give you a longer one instead. I hope you enjoyed this as much as I did, and that you will rejoin me soon for the sequel. Until then, thanks again to all who have or will review:

_FireOpal:_ Thanks for all the praise, it was most appreciated! The results were great thanks, and now I officially don't have to worry I can spend more time writing…which is all to the good.

_Rowana S:_ Here's another update, so the jig can continue! Hope this chapter makes up for the length of the last one, and you actually get to find out that poor recruit's name now. Good luck with your GCSE results…I'm sure you don't need it though.

_Phoebe Telumetar:_ I'm so flattered by this review, and really grateful you took the time to read even though you weren't sure you'd like it. Also, its great to hear I'm not writing too OOC, as that's always a major worry for me.

_Not Your Average:_ Ah the humour…so very hard to shoehorn in! Hopefully a little more in this chappie, no small thanks to your help. You were right about 'New Boy'…see, he now has a name rather than just a plot forwarding function, lucky chap. I will find that Vimes exclaimed…or get it written in a new book, so don't be surprised when PTerry is kidnapped and held to ransom. Glad you liked most of it, and I'm looking forward to your reaction to this last bit…especially the boy's scene together. There is no deepening!

_Deathwisher:_ After reading your new bio, I am doubly happy that you're here on at all, let alone still reviewing. I also can't believe there were no plot holes, it's a miracle. The senior watchmen I referred to are only Carrot, Colon and Nobby, as well as Angua and Igor, as that's how I always think of them…sorry if that was unclear. Hope this final instalment lives up to your expectations.

_L'esthete:_ I can see why there would be cause for confusion. The stabbing and transfusion were originally going to be the climax of the story, but then the idea I got whilst writing that chapter was what lead to the werewolf plotline coming about. This interfered slightly with the overall shape of the story. However, the sequel I am planning will continue the werewolf storyline in greater detail and allow that too to reach resolution. Always glad my work is appreciated.

_Simone93:_ Why? Short answer: because I wanted to. Long answer: because I had an idea that bounced around my brain screaming until I let it out! I could ask why you started to read this story when it clearly warned you that Vimes and Vetinari would be paired together.

_Alguilac: _I love the pen-name. I also love that you love my story…so everyone's happy!

_The Purple Emperor:_ I'm glad I can appeal to such a big fan. I also fell in love with the Discworld universe, which is what inspired me to write this, so its always good to know that you're doing a good job. I only hope I can continue to be worth your praise.

Thank you again everyone, and you'll hear from me soon. Byeeee!


End file.
